


A Moment of Weakness

by doxian



Series: Homestuck Shipping World Cup 2014 [9]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb/Sgrub Sessions, Cuddling & Snuggling, Homestuck Shipping World Cup 2014, Huddling For Warmth, Insomnia, M/M, Male Character of Color, Roommates, Sibling Incest, Sleeping Together, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-06
Updated: 2014-07-06
Packaged: 2018-02-07 02:58:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1882551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doxian/pseuds/doxian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Maybe you hadn't noticed with your superhuman resistance to extreme temperatures, but it's as cold as the Snow Queen's left asscheek in here. Has been for fuckin' days, because <i>somebody</i> has something against fixing the heat," Dave says, throwing his duvet and pillow onto your bed. "C'mon, move over."</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Moment of Weakness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stereosymbiosis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stereosymbiosis/gifts).



> Fill for [this br4 prompt](http://hs-worldcup.dreamwidth.org/21508.html?thread=5906948#cmt5906948): The heat goes out and Dave and Dirk have to huddle for warmth.
> 
> The sibling incest warning is mostly there because of a brief flashback to Dirk making Dave let himself be used for hickey practice when they were younger because Dirk is a jerk. The rest is just cuddling.
> 
> Also a brief mention of background fail dirkjake.

It's 2:51am. Two goddamn 51 in the morning, which means you've been tossing and turning for two hours now, mind buzzing with robotics plans and that subroutine you intend to delete from your auto-responder's programming because it's beginning to piss you the fuck off and the many possible reasons that Jake hasn't returned any of your calls in three days. You not being able to fall asleep isn't anything out of the ordinary, but it's particularly frustrating tonight when you have to be up early for your first final tomorrow morning.

You sigh and turn over, laying on your front and burying your face into your pillow. You wish, like you have many times before, that your brain came with an "off" switch.

Your door creaks open.

"You awake? What am I saying. Of course you are," says Dave, not very quietly at all. You frown. If you had been asleep when he walked in, you definitely wouldn't be any more after that.

"I thought you grew out of your ridiculous nightmares when you were ten," you say with a yawn, turning over on your back and glancing at him. He's wearing a fluffy sweater tucked into a pair of sweatpants, holding a pillow and a duvet draped over his shoulders, the end of it trailing behind him.

"Okay, maybe you hadn't noticed with your superhuman resistance to extreme temperatures, but it's as cold as the Snow Queen's left asscheek in here. Has been for fuckin' days, because _somebody_ has something against fixing the heat," he says, throwing the duvet and pillow onto your bed. "C'mon, move over. Do you have a vendetta against boilers or something, did a boiler offend you as a child, and if so why didn't I know about it," he continues, opening his mouth wide for a big-ass yawn of his own. "Why you gotta continue this personal war with our central heating system. Give it some TLC already, dude. Or are you actively trying to murder me with hypothermia? Seriously, I think I'm feeling a fever coming on."

He climbs in next to you, sitting up and arranging his duvet on top of yours.

Why specifically the left asscheek? You want to say. Is the right one somehow lacking, in either coldness or lushness? If each asscheek reduces the temperature of your apartment by a different amount, then wouldn't both asscheeks together result in superlatively more severe chill? Is he just determined to play buttock favorites?

Great, now you're thinking about butts instead of all the other crap, which isn't any less distracting.

"Nothing so dramatic as that. It's not even that bad," you say, instead, as he reaches over to tuck the blankets in around you. If you start riffing off of his bullshit, then you can kiss any possibility of sleep goodbye for the rest of the night.

The truth is, you'd thought the convenient breaking down of your apartment's central heating system was a good opportunity for you to increase both your and Dave's tolerance-slash-resistence to the cold. His point about maybe getting sick is a valid one, though, especially as the fall is beginning to coast into winter. Typically you'd want to try toughing the possibility of sickness out, as well, but with both of your final exams right around the corner it would be less than ideal if one of you were to fall ill within the next couple of weeks.

"Fine. I'll get the heat fixed for the big baby," you say. Dave is tucking the blankets around himself, now. He seems to be determined to make a true blanket burrito out of you both.

"Oh, please," he scoffs. "Like the cold isn't playing some role in keeping you up."

He finally seems happy with how tightly the blankets are pulled around you and cuddles up into your side.

"Holy shit!" You come close to shouting when Dave accosts your unguarded ankles with his ice cold feet. "If the cold's been bothering you so much, why didn't you put some goddamn socks on or something?"

He ignores your complaining, rubbing his feet vigorously against your calves and snaking one arm over you, placing his equally cold hand on your chest and making you jump.

"Ughhh, this is so much better, fuck." He moans like he'd just taken a gulp of his favorite brand of AJ, and you're almost offended at his flagrant display of relief. Ever since you'd both gone on different study abroads last year, he's really mellowed out, and you're not sure that you like the results. You're convinced that the professor who lead the trip, a funny, short little man who you don't think you've ever heard speak when you've passed him in the halls, is somehow to blame.

Neither of you say anything for a while, both quietly reveling in how your combined body heat warms up the air under the blankets like a furnace. You'd been sleeping under your single blanket in nothing but boxers, as usual, and you thought you were fine, but this warmth and comfort makes it obvious just how tense and shivery you'd been earlier.

Dave's hand is resting just above where you know one of your top surgery scars is, his nose basically in your neck and his hair tickling your chin. You sigh in a long-suffering, "how the hell do I manage to deal with this fuckin' needy asshole" kind of way, and put your arm around him. You'll have to move eventually if you don't want your arm to go to sleep, but this is okay, for now, if a little weird. Neither you or Dave have ever been the touchy type, least of all with each other. Not usually, anyway - although Dave's face in your neck suddenly brings to mind the time you made him let you practice hickies on him when you were 12. You'd both gotten in trouble for that.

"And I wasn't the only one clamorin' to share a bed when we were little," he mutters.

"What?"

"You brought up my nightmares," he yawns again. "But you conveniently neglected to mention that one time we had that big storm, you know, the one that felt like it was gonna pluck up the entire building and drop us in fuckin' Munchkinland or some shit. Don't think I ever saw anyone shake so much."

You pinch him hard in the side through his sweater and he yelps. So you were afraid of storms when you were a kid, so what. Most of the time you'd waited them out, curled into a tight ball until they were over. (Going into Dave's room was a mere moment of weakness - just like this is.) Dave had been surprisingly accommodating when you'd knocked on his door that night, even being considerate enough to wait until the next morning to make fun of you. 

When Dave woke you up whining about nightmares, you usually just shoved him out of your bed again so that he landed on his ass on the floor, telling him to go back to sleep in his own bed and stop being such a wimp.

Which you tell him to do now, without the "sleep in your own bed" part.

"Go to sleep, Dave. I have to be up in a few hours."

"Okay, yeah." And he throws a leg over you as well and quiets down, falling asleep seconds after he stops talking. You're a little envious.

The warmth is getting to be a little too much - a light sheen of sweat is gathering where your bodies touch, and surely the pile of blankets and body heat is enough, he hardly needs to curl up against you as well. Ugh, if you leave him like this you'll probably wake up with a puddle of his drool on your chest in addition to the numb arm, but you can't bring yourself to move. You'll just give this a couple more minutes...

You drift off to sleep shortly after Dave does, and you don't wake up again until the shrill blaring of your alarm clock rings in your ear the next morning.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to ~~be Stridercest shipper nerds together~~ have Very Intelligent Discussions about Homestuck, feel free to hit me up on [thatsnotbeautiful.tumblr.com](http://thatsnotbeautiful.tumblr.com).


End file.
